


How The Worm Turns

by tonyisthefool



Series: The SI-ries [1]
Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28259787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonyisthefool/pseuds/tonyisthefool
Summary: What possible circumstances could conspire to have some moron like me be placed on Earth Bet? Well, whatever it was, I'll take advantage of it. Maybe fix this place up a bit. Sure as hell needs it.Rated M for strong language, and canon-level violence. Not a CYOA
Series: The SI-ries [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070192
Kudos: 8





	1. Madison, Thou Art Fucking Awful

What follows is the only warning or disclosure I'll write for this fic.

I've chosen not to use content warnings, because if you're reading this, you've read canon, and this isn't really any worse than canon. Also, I consider tags mildly spoilery and annoying, so that's why there aren't much of any.

This fic is every bit as fucked up as canon, but less depressing, and also with a lot more homicide. Also, this is an SI, which deserves a warning in and of itself. In addition to all that, this is my first fic, which is essentially just another warning.

I do have the whole thing plotted out, though.

Also, I'm obviously not Wildbow, also known as John C. McCrae. Unlike me, he's actually good at writing.

* * *

Chapter The First - Madison, Thou Art Fucking Awful

* * *

"This has to be Wisconsin," I mutter to myself.

"I absolutely, categorically refuse to believe that any other place on the fucking planet would have two cheese stores on the same corner." There is no other explanation.

The first issue is, of course, that I live over a thousand miles away from Wisconsin. As the crow flies. The second issue being that it's about noon, in a moderately large city, two days before Christmas, and there's nobody to be seen.

I was, of course, panicking.

I'm in Wisconsin, I have to be. It's boring, American, and with more than one cheese store in sight. I'm standing on a street corner. I can see... walls? Are those walls in the distance? "Nevermind the walls, this place looks like it's been abandoned for a year. What a hellscape."

"Wait. Two days before Christmas. Wisconsin. Desolate hellscape. Walls." I've heard this before, I know I have. But... where?

"Fuck."

"...shit, this isn't my Earth, anymore, is it? Well. Hell. I guess I'm in, on, whatever, fucking Bet, of all damn the places. This is probably the Simurgh's fault. Nevermind, this is definitely the Simurgh's fault."

"Wait, shouldn't I be freaking the hell out? Well, freaking out more, at any rate. I'm on Earth fucking Bet, infinitely far from home, and I don't even care. I care more that I'm in Wisconsin than I am that I'm in another dimension. Universe. Whatever."

Well, I gotta make sure this isn't some vivid hallucination. Of course, that's impossible to truly do but I can make sure this is actually Bet, or close to it.

"Uh, fuck it. Cauldron! Contessa! Doormaker! Doorwa-" And a bright yellow doorway opened. "Holy shit, that was fast." And out steps... a woman in a suit. Not a cape suit, but a business suit. And a hat. Contessa, then.

"Come with me," she says. God, what a disturbing voice. No expression, no emotion, that hint of a trace of an accent, but nothing substantial.

"Alright, Tessie. Will do, can do, et cetera." She twitches a bit at Tessie. Good. The sociopath might not deserve it, exactly, but she doesn't not deserve it.

I suppose I should describe myself as the members of Cauldron would see me. Male teenager, for one. About 5'11", 6 foot even, dirty blond hair a bit beyond the shoulders, not overweight, but not thin. John Lennon glasses, but with clear plastic frames. An acne filled forehead. Appropriate, seeing as I'm 15. Sweatpants, slip-on Vans, a jacket, and underneath, a band shirt.

Anyways, Contessa walks through the portal, and I follow her. It's a meeting room, and a tastefully designed one at that. In the room are four people, besides me and the sociopath with godly powers. A middle aged pale blonde man in a suit, a woman in a suit - a cape suit, this time - who's also wearing a visor. The last person is also presumably a cape, wearing a hood, amongst other various bits, and was green and glowy. In summation, Number Man, Alexandria, and Eidolon. Great, now I can explain everything to them. Beautiful.

"Who's this, Contessa? Why are they here?" Alexandria asks. She doesn't really look impressed.

Contessa replies before I can: "Someone essential. He will give us necessary information." She turns to me. My turn, I guess.

"Ok, first thing, I just got on this Earth, so I need to know what the year and date are."

A couple of odd looks go around. Which is completely fair, of course. People _are_ supposed to stay on their Earth, after all.

"December 23, 2010." I don't even care who said it. It doesn't really matter.

The 23th, huh? Same date, but ten years behind. And in another universe. A full year off for the Simgurgh, though, which is pretty damn weird, but I guess it helps with the timescale. Five months until canon, ish.

"Alright, good, cool, whatever. Okay, I have a few small requests, and by a few small requests, I mean a fuckload of huge requests. Right, first one-"

This time it's Ol' Eidy that speaks up. Bastard. "Why should we do what you tell us?" He's more whiny than I expected - makes sense, though.

"What, as if being delivered by Tessie into your spooky lair of evil evilness isn't enough? Come on, David. Oh, yeah, that's right, I know everything. Everything. All your little fuckups, all your atrocities, all of it. Cauldron. Case 53's. Fucking evil Scion. The Garden of Flesh. Your civilian identities, your pasts - everything. Anyways, I want Slaughterhouse 9 gone. All of them except Manton and Bonesaw, actually." I'm definitely not just improvising a plan to deal with the golden dipshit. No, what makes you say that?

Aaaaaand nobody knows how to react to that. I mean, what would you do if some irreverent 15 year old said he knows all the dirty secrets of your "nonexistent" shadow government?

Someone, I think it's Kurt or Numberguy or Habringer or whatever he's called says: "...how do you know that? Are you a thinker? If so, you must've triggered recently, for someone so powerful to go unnoticed is unthinkable. No, you can't be, the numbers don't support it at all..." He's speculative, by the end.

"Ah, no, sorry to disappoint. If I told you how I know anything, you'd never believe me. Anyways. Slaughterhouse needs to die, save for Siberian and Bonesaw. I know, I know, you all wanna keep Jack Slash alive, or whatever, to end the world on schedule, because the odds get worse and worse after 2013 or so. I have my own plan, though. It's better, I'll tell you that. Much less death, probably, maybe, and it'll be less costly overall."

Alex seems to have recovered from her shock. "You're lying. You have no plan. Contessa, end this farce."

"I'm not lying, I'm bluffing. There's a difference, slightly. Also, I kinda sorta have a plan. Whatever I come up with can't be worse than ten billion or so dead. Regardless, we need to actually get something in motion - things will devolve quickly, without intervenience. Five months, maybe six."

I don't really have a plan, yet - I'm just bluffing, like I said. But, how hard could it be? There are a bunch of SI's out there - were, I guess. There's gotta be like half a dozen things to exploit, with knowledge of everything. Bonesaw and Blasto being one of them. I mean, come on. Massive clone army against some fucking gold-colored parasite? Easy.

"And you want the Slaughterhouse 9 dead, all for Bonesaw and The Siberian?"

"Of course, Rebecca. Surely you three could pull that off? It'd do wonders for your public relations, I assure you."

She turns to Contessa, who nods in reply. She sighs. "Consider it done. David, prepare to face them." She turns to me. "What else do you want?"

Ah, that's a good point. I need somewhere to live - in Brockton Bay, of course. I also need money - for supplies, and whatnot. I'll also need some ID - maybe as an emancipated minor, just for shits and giggles. Hmmm... I need powers, too. How, though? Nevermind, I'll deal with that later. Now, I just want somewhere to collapse.

I yawn. "Money, a house in Brockton Bay, and an identity, preferably as an emancipated minor. I want the house now, then the other two overnight, if possible."

"What name do you want on your ID?" Alexandria sighs.

Something to do with my name - my family. Ah. My mother's maiden name, and my own middle name will work. "Tony Martinowsky. Em ay ar tee eye oh en ess kay why."

She nods.

Out of the corner of my eye, Contessa looks thoughtful for a minute, and then says, in her odd voice, "Doorway."

I step through the doorway, see a bed, and lie down in it. Everything else can wait till morning.

* * *

End Chapter The First.


	2. Starting a Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some stuff I forgot to mention the first time. This fic will have exactly one pairing, which probably won't come up for a while. At least, that's what I've got planned. It doesn't involve the SI.
> 
> Also, if I fuck canon up, or otherwise majorly fuck up, please let me know, so I can un-fuck it up.
> 
> There's a reason this is listed as being part of a series. After this is done, there will be more - so not everything will be dealt with in this fic. In other words, just be patient, you bastards.

Some stuff I forgot to mention the first time. This fic will have exactly one pairing, which probably won't come up for a while. At least, that's what I've got planned. It doesn't involve the SI.

Also, if I fuck canon up, or otherwise majorly fuck up, please let me know, so I can un-fuck it up.

There's a reason this is listed as being part of a series. (On AO3, that is. It _is_ part of a series, just so you know.) After this is done, there will be more - so not everything will be dealt with in this fic. In other words just be patient, you bastards.

Chapter The Second

* * *

I awake in an unfamiliar bed. It takes a while to remember, but then I do.

"Fuck!"

Which is an entirely fair response because OH DEAR GOD I'M IN FUCKING WORM! I'M TRAPPED IN THIS UTTER SHITHOLE HELLSCAPE! I'M GONNA FUCKING DIIIIEE!

Well. If I'm stuck here, I might as well fix everything. And if I'm gonna fix everything, I need a plan. Wait, I started a plan already. Something something Bonesaw Blasto clones something something kill Scion gg easy.

Well, that won't do, will it? I need Bonesaw in an actual radius of me, and also I need powers. I could just make Cauldron give me some, seeing as I probably don't have a corona pollentia. Or...

Yeah, I actually have no clue. Wait! Butcher! I could just kill her.

Ok, plotting murder, great. It is an ok idea, though. Wait, no, it won't work, because shards need corona pollentias, or whatever. I could just have Bonesaw give me one, I guess. I don't really want a vial, because I really really really don't wanna be a Case 53, or even risk being one, even if the vial I would get would have a really low risk, or whatever. Not something you play with, if possible.

Ok, so Bonesaw gives me a corona... pollentia, not virus, and I go shoot Butcher or whatever. What else? Well, the clone thing, of course, but that's not just it. I need to make sure Panacea doesn't go insane, deal with the Endbringers - probably by shooting Eidolon. Not worth fixing him. Panacea, powers, the Jack Slash and the Nines, Endbringers, what else... All the other S-Class threats, for one. Oh! Coil. He needs to die. I'll come up with a plan for that in more detail later, I have like four months or something to deal with him. Then again, I have more time than that with Panacea.

Speaking of. What should I do about her? Just sit her down at some point and be like: "Stop. Just. Stop, ok? You're gonna go fucking insane if you don't. That would be _bad_. Anyways, I need to go save the world, bye!"

Yeah, right. Actually, come to think of it, that might work. Right, what else? Oh, yeah, Brockton's a shithole. Gotta fix that up. Get rid of all the gangs, establish a presence as someone to leave alone, call it a day?

Yeah sure whatever that'll do for now. I think I should think about what I'll actually do _now_ , though. Call up Tessie and Becky again, ask for money... what the hell do I have planned after that again? Oh, yeah, brain surgery. I guess something needs to be done about Bonesaw. Riley Grace Davis, if my brain isn't crapping out.

A shiny yellow rectangle appears. Some chick in a suit walks out. Wait, I know this...

"Hey, what a fuckin' coincidence, I was just thinking about blackmailing you! Again!"

"It's no coincidence. Follow me."

"Yeah, no shit it's not coincidence. What, d'you fail sarcasm school, or something?"

"I have never heard of sarcasm school. I do not believe it exists."

I... have no idea how to respond to that. I just give her a look.

I sigh, then walk through the portal.

Alexandria in some form of Cauldron room.

She says: "Here's your custom fake ID, _sir._ " Ah, cool, she hates me. Always wanted to have a world leader fucking pissed at me.

"Right, thanks. Hey, uh, I need money for goods and services, thanks. Like, a lot of it. How 'bout a debit card for a good bank account and cash?"

She has a really odd look on her face. I guess Tessie told her how cool I am, or something, because it kinda seems like she's being forced at gunpoint to deal with me. A furious smile, I guess I'd call the look on her face. I feel like she's gonna plot horrible revenge on me. Maybe I should deal with that at some point.

"Of course. Sir. How does $200,000 in both sound?"

...yeah, that'd do it, wouldn't it? Come to think of it, though, she's really really fuckin' angry. I mean, Christ. I guess she took some apoplexy pills this morning, or something.

"Uh, sure. Cool. Right, so, uh, I kinda need to talk to Bonesaw, and have her do stuff for me, so, uh, hurry up on that S-Nine shit? Thanks. Also, does the house I have now have internet, or do I need to set that up, orrrrr...?"

"The house we've provided you has everything a normal house has. Appliances and all. Sir. As for the Nine, we're working as hard as we can. They should be dealt with soon. Sir."

I get the feeling she worked in customer service at some point.

"Ok, cool, good. Uh... Oh! What's my address, so I can door there?"

"312 Veravia Lane. Sir."

Cool.

"Alright, thanks for the cool shit I'm blackmailing you into giving me. See you, uh, sometime. Just remember, this is for the sake of the world, or worlds, or some shit!"

I have no clue why, but I'm making a habit out of pissing off the scary invulnerable lady. Ah, well.

"Portal- wait, no, door to 312 Veravia Lane."

Damn internal monologue.

I walk through the portal.

* * *

The house is actually pretty nice - older, but well maintained. Actually, perfectly maintained. Almost as if it was waiting for someone. Hmmm...

Anyways.

It's old - maybe build in the 30's or something. It has basically every modern appliance I could want. Even an espresso machine - which, back home, I used. Hmmm...

Anyways.

The closet is full of clothes I would wear - band shirts, jackets, random t-shirts, and what have you. Hmmm...

Anyways.

I've spent the day exploring the house, learning it. It's time to go to bed.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

* * *

End Chapter the Second.


	3. Figuring Shit Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna try and settle into a Friday night/Weekend posting schedule - no guarantees, of course, but now you can know when to spam me with emails about being late.
> 
> Also, made a slight edit to the last chapter.

Start Chapter the Third

* * *

The rest of those two weeks were spent just learning where I am in this shitty world. Figuring out what's changed - not too much. No pennies, there's a dollar coin, for some reason, no 9/11 due to the handful of fucking kaiju that popped out of the ground, you know, standard fair. It's about what I expected.

What I didn't expect was what was up with the internet. Contessa et. al. did indeed provide a computer. I boot it up, open fuckin' Internet Explorer or whatever it is, it doesn't matter. When it opens, there are two options. Earth Bet, and Earth Aleph.

Huh.

I choose Bet, because, even if Aleph's internet is different, I'm _on_ Bet.

It's... kinda boring. It's pretty standard internet. Shitty social media, worse forums.

Speaking of.

I decide I need a PHO account. But, I need a name. Actually, I need an email account. I go do that. After I get that done, I ponder perilously of a peculiar name.

Well, I need a cape name, don't I? What would I have, as a cape... bullshit future knowledge, of course. Hmmm, what's a good word for shit like that... ah! Prescience. That'll do. But, I'll be Butcher too, so... Prutcher?

I fall out of my chair laughing. The thought of the name of the guy who saves the world being fucking _Prutcher_ is just too goddamn funny! I'll theoretically save the whole damn planet, being named _Prutcher_ , of all the things? Glorious, absolutely perfect. Actually, that might work - nobody will take someone named Prutcher seriously, for better and for worse. I guess I could change it later, if I need to.

Anyways, back to a PHO name. When I eventually get around to being Butcher XV, I'll make an official account, but for now, a civilian account. What to call it... seeing as I'm Prescience now, I guess, and Butcher later, maybe... something like Prescience/Butcher alt account? Shorten that down to PBAlt... nah, pbalt. That works.

It's not taken.

I take it.

That being taken care of, I check the actual website out. On the front page are all the different boards. Global news, a buncha different local news, new capes, and whatnot. I decide to click on global news. There are subsections for the six continents people live on - I go with North America.

Across the top of the screen, there's one big post - a pinned thread, I guess. "TRIUMVIRATE PREPARE TO DESTROY SLAUGHTERHOUSE NINE".

Well, hell. I guess I'm actually making waves already. I can't imagine why the hell they'd let the Nine know that they're attacking them. I guess they have a reason - even if that reason is just "Contessa said so."

* * *

At any rate, I spend the rest of the afternoon reading up on what the hell's happened here since 1982, or 1979, or whatever. Not too different, in terms of what it's like for a normal person, actually - the main thing is less music stuff, for some reason. I guess it's overshadowed, a bit.

Y'know, by the fucking superheros and also the golden-skinned god-man who showed up out of nowhere.

There are a ton of other odds and ends not even worth mentioning, really - different presidents, parahuman politics, all that bullshit. I like to think I know all I need to know about that subject.

I honestly don't even think I care about politics anymore. I never really did, I guess.

It's honestly sorta hard to care about a lot of things. Doesn't really feel like anything matters, even though I know it does.

I guess being dumped on an alternate world without any of your family, or, for that matter, anyone you've ever met, gives you a little bit of flippant nihilism.

I never would've guessed.

I could probably just go back home - Doormaker and Clairvoyant are pretty damn good - but I don't even really want to, is the thing. It doesn't make much sense, but I didn't have much attaching me there - no high hopes, no grand aspirations to stay for. My life was just fine, it was just mundane, I guess.

* * *

Ok, introspection over. I haven't eaten in like two straight days - granted, a lot of that was sleeping, but still.

I think I'll eat out. Thankfully, Bet has Google Maps too. First, though, I actually need to see where I am aaaand it's Captain's Hill. I love Google Maps.

Captain's Hill is basically just outskirts right up against the mountains that are on the south and west borders of the city. And wow was that a surprise. I honestly kinda forgot that the Bay was surrounded by mountains on two sides.

I end up taking the bus system - which is how everyone gets around, I guess, there weren't a ton of cars. Oh, wait, it's Christmas.

How the hell did I forget that?

Anyways, I take the bus to some local burger chain - not Fugly Bob's. It's pretty far away from Captain's Hill, actually.

It's pretty damn good. I think it was the only place I could find that was open on Christmas.

I make my way back to the house - turns out, it's right next to a playground. Kinda odd, there aren't too many houses around here, but there is a playground.

I go through the next ten days much the same - just exploring the city, figuring out more shit about Bet - some little details here and there that are obvious to the people who were born there, but I have no idea about.

Wouldn't do to be found out.

I might even get a fine, if that happened - it's illegal to travel dimensions, don't you know.

* * *

I came up with a more solid plan during those ten days. Most of the time was just spent on refining it, and patching the holes and what not.

I decided to run it by Contessa, and all she had to say is "Continue with your plans."

She's pretty weird, honestly. I don't think she ever realized, in Worm, that she _was_ one of those capes who weren't much more than shells for their shards, like Ash Beast, or Echidna.

Or Khepri.

Anyways, about the plan. It can't really work till the Nine are dealt with, because it needs Bonesaw to give me a corona pollentia so I can go kill Butcher.

Wow, that sounded fucking retarded. Maybe I should just take a vial.

Then again, Case 53's. Which aren't actually people who've purchased a vial or whatever, but still.

* * *

After the ten days, there's finally news on the Nine.

* * *

End Chapter The Third.


	4. Development

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha whoops there goes my "schedule"
> 
> Seriously though, I'm sorry about the delay. No clue why it took so long.
> 
> Also, I apologize for all the shit writing. Thanks for sticking with this, for some reason.

Start Chapter the Fourth

* * *

I was walking down the Boardwalk when I saw the news. Yeah, yeah, the Boardwalk's an overpriced tourist trap, who cares. It's something to do - even if it's not that interesting.

The headline read: "SLAUGHTERHOUSE NINE SLAUGHTERED BY EIDOLON"

I bet they were real proud of that amazing pun.

The actual story read something like "Eidolon decided to be competent for once, and totally killed all of the S9. No cover-ups whatsoever, they're all very super ultra dead." but with more bootlicking. After all, he _did_ just singlehandedly "eliminate" an S-Class threat.

After seeing that, I made my way to my house as quickly as I could, so I could call for a portal without anybody seeing the big yellow rectangle, or some idiot yelling about a doorway.

And so here I am. "Doorw-" I say, stopping, as a portal opens.

Goddamn. I never really thought about how good Contessa is, but, just...

Damn.

Anyways. I'm back in the shadow government's hangout room. Eidolon's there, as are Alexandria, Number Man, Legend, oddly enough, and... Doctor Mother. Great. Never really wanted to deal with her, but whatever. Guess I have to.

"Alright, Legend. Anybody told you who I am, yet, or...?" I say.

"I have no idea who you are."

That answers that.

"Uh, ok. I, uh... Hm. I don't really know how to say this-"

Alexandria takes that opportunity to speak up.

"He's the one blackmailing us into doing his bidding. His favors, that is."

Hey, look, her customer service grin is back.

Maybe I shouldn't piss off one of the main players in the shadow government that puppetmasters numerous Earths.

...Yeah, right. Like I'm responsible enough to do that.

Legend and Alexandria confer for a minute. Guess he didn't know who exactly was blackmailing his friends.

"Right, so, uh, what actually happened with the Nine?" I say.

Doctor Mother stands up, offers a hand. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced, Mr...?"

Oh, yeah, I have a name. Tony Martinowsky. I guess it fits. Chosen on a whim, not that great, sorta silly.

"Tony Martinowsky, I guess. Pleased to meet you, Doctor. But you're distracting from the point. What. Happened. To the Nine?"

Contessa flinches a bit at that. Flinches! Me! I made the, fuckin', I dunno, Goddess Of Bullshit Insta-Win Powers fucking flinch!

I mean, it's probably to give me an ego trip because the Path-To-Victory™ demands it, but I'll take it nonetheless.

"There were... complications."

I sigh. That's never a good thing.

"Fuckin' great, who got away?" Probably Jack himself, for all the luck that's in this world.

"No person escaped. Eidolon was... less judicious than he perhaps should've been. There were casualties. Hundreds of civilians."

I've caused deaths, now.

The civilians - no, fuck that. The normal people, the humans who died might've died anyways, but, still... I honestly don't really feel anything. I never knew them. Maybe it's sociopathic of me, but I just can't care about them, all that much. All I really feel is anger at Eidolon. He's not incompetent. He's survived this long, after all.

I sigh, again.

"All of them except Manton and Bonesaw are dead, though, right?" That's the main thing, really.

Eidolon spoke up, for the first time. "I have no idea what you are talking about with Manton. William Manton died years ago. Contessa told me to send a specific white van to headquarters, through a door. All the rest of them are dead."

As for how I feel about the Nine being killed on little more than Contessa supporting my word... fuck 'em. They fucking deserve it. Horrible bastards. Wait...

"Except Bonesaw, right?"

"Yes, yes, she's being dealt with now."

I ask nobody in particular, "What the hell does that mean, exactly? Is she locked up in some obscure cage, or-"

"A false identity is being created for her. She is currently in one of our facilities," Contessa says.

Ok, that works, that works. "Alright, good, just one thing, though. Have you dealt with her mental state yet?"

"I have done as much as I can, making significant progress. It would be safe, if she were to operate upon you."

Well, that's only vaguely reassuring. Whatever. It'll do.

"Alright, when will she be able to do it? In addition to that, could you explain to her what I need done? Make sure I can't hear the voices, and whatnot? I like being sane."

"Yes. A doorway will open in one day."

"Cool, one last thing. I need a shotgun. And some ammo, come to think of it."

She merely gestured to a table behind her. On it, a 12 gauge and two boxes of shells.

"Thank you."

I grab the shotgun, and the shells, and walk through a portal.

* * *

I go to bed, thinking of what I'll do tomorrow, and how I'll do it.

* * *

A portal opens.

Welp, this is the moment of truth. Am I being a fucking moron, or am I onto something?

She's short. Shorter than I thought, honestly. Yes, 11 year old girl, or so, but still. Short.

I sigh. "Let's just get this over with. Knock me out, will you?"

She nods nervously. That's not reassuring.

* * *

I barely remember what happened. I feel different, it's all changed. I feel too much, I see too much, it's all too much. Sensory overload, overclocked to eleven. I-

* * *

-wake up, hours later. It all feels insane. The powers of 14 capes, loaded into me. All the feelings, responses I get from my powers - there's no describing it, other than sensory overload. I can feel that I can mess with some of my surroundings - but only some materials.

I feel like I can teleport, just like I can move a leg, like I can do so much random shit, like I can reach into a fucking pocket dimension, like I could fuck with emotions, if there was anyone within range to do that to, like I'm bulletproof, like -

* * *

This is getting pretty annoying, passing out. But there's so much to think, to feel, to - no! Gotta focus on something else, anything else - Butcher! I shot her, a couple times, to make sure, what with the skin, and stuff, ooo my skin is like that too! I could take a shotgun blast or two to the head - no! Can't think of that, need to push it down, can't keep passing out like this, gotta think of something else - Bonesaw! What the hell happened to her, what gonna happen to her? Is she gonna be adopted by some rando who hates her, like Amy? That'd suck. Maybe she'll be a ward of Cauldron - that'd suck too, really. Or maybe -

"Hello?"

Who the fuck said that.

"Who's there? I can hear you. It's not polite not to ignore me, you know..."

The damn voice is getting closer. I've heard it before...

Oh, no. No, no, no. I'm not dealing with this. Not her, not in my damn house.

I mumble under my breath, quiet as I can, "Doorway to Contessa."

I go through it, quickly.

"What the hell are you thinking? Why is she _in my house_ , Fortuna? Why?"

I have to shut down all the thoughts, the sensations, the feelings, the - the powers. Need to push them down, to think, to be conscious.

"Her living with you is the best option available."

That brings me up short.

I mean, what else is there? Put her up for adoption? Kill her? Keep her captive? None of those are great if the short term goal is to get her mentally healthy. Adoption could theoretically work, but it's not a great option, again. I'm not really happy with the thought of living with Bonesaw, but having her go free would be worse.

"I guess you've got a point." I laugh. "Of fucking course you do. You're you."

"It's impolite to swear, you know."

I turn around, aaaaand it's her.

Should've made sure the damn portal was closed.

I can only laugh. "I never thought the first time I met you, really met you, that is, I'd be splattered with blood, and you wouldn't be."

An awkward silence drones, for a while, then Contessa says, "I will leave you, now. You both ought to get accustomed to each other. Goodbye."

She goes through a portal of her own, as do I, through mine. I can only assume Bonesaw - Riley, follows me.

* * *

End Chapter The Fourth.


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